


The Omega Emperor

by JRC



Series: The Token Harem AU™ [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Hanzo Shimada, Alternate Universe - Harem, Gen, Hanzo Shimada is Bad at Feelings, Historical Fantasy, Omega Lúcio Correia dos Santos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-07 21:40:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20824223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JRC/pseuds/JRC
Summary: Hanzo supposes he should be grateful that his bloodline makes him worth more alive than dead to the people who invaded his country. But all he ever feels anymore is an undercurrent of dread, relentlessly dragging him down.He jerks back in surprise as his minder's hand lands suddenly on his shoulder, barely suppressing the urge to snarl at the man, once so far below his station, now watching him like he was some kind of ill-behaved child. "Get up. The emperor will be here to see you soon," he jeers, punctuating the title with air quotes.Hanzo is beginning to wonder whether the emperor will ever arrive by the time the man finally slips through the door. He's almost sorry he doubted the man, as soon as he sees him. Almost. The infamous omega emperor looks... exhausted. He isn't certain what he had expected, not exactly, but whatever it was, it hadn't been... what he found.





	The Omega Emperor

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady Mythos (Lady_Mythos)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Mythos/gifts).

> This work is un-beta'd so I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors! Feel free to point any out and I'll clean 'em right up.
> 
> There's no sexual content of any sort in this fic. There are implications and some bad words and that's it! Mostly this is feels-centric.

Hanzo's life has always felt somewhat like a waking, never-ending nightmare, but for the past few months, that nightmare has only gotten worse. First, the country was hit by a disease that wiped out most of their livestock. Naturally, a famine followed shortly on his heels, which brought the Shimada empire to its knees just trying to keep its people fed. Then, their warmongering neighbor invaded and stole their lands right out from beneath them.

Suffice it to say, Hanzo has had better months. So has Japan. But he isn't allowed to say that anymore. He isn't allowed to say much of anything anymore.

The Shimada heir tilts his head slightly to the side, just enough to keep his babysitter in sight as the man paces back and forth in the spacious room the pair of them have been given to 'relax' in after their arduous journey. Relax? Please.

He shifts almost imperceptibly where he sits in perfect _seiza_, closing his eyes as he watches his minder turn and pace in his direction again, mumbling obscenities beneath his breath in Japanese about the state of their accommodations, about Hanzo, about the omega emperor. One might almost think the uptight beta is the one being married off - but no, that's still Hanzo.

He supposes he should be grateful that his bloodline makes him worth more alive than dead to the people who invaded his country. But all he ever feels anymore is an undercurrent of dread, relentlessly dragging him down.

A deep breath in for three seconds, then out for ten. Meditation is like a cloth bandage tied over a limb that needs to be amputated, for all the good it does him. Maybe if he had meditated more while he was still in a position of some power in Japan - Hanzo shuts that thought down before it can progress too far. There's no point in thinking on the past as though he can change it; he is very well aware that he cannot. The Gods know how many times Hanzo has prayed for the chance to change his past.

Hanzo jerks back in surprise as his minder's hand lands suddenly on his shoulder, barely suppressing the urge to snarl at the man, once so far below his station, now watching him like he was some kind of ill-behaved child. The man must see his distaste, as he sneers down at Hanzo as he straightens up, folding his hands behind his back and looking down his nose at the Shimada heir. "Get up. The _emperor_ will be here to see you soon," he jeers in Japanese, punctuating the title with air quotes.

Hanzo pays him little mind as he rises to his feet, stepping back against the wall where he stands perfectly still, his hands folded within the sleeves of his _hakama_. It is humiliating to be addressed so familiarly by the distasteful man. To think... once, this man would have groveled before his feet, while now, he insulted Hanzo every other sentence beneath his breath.

Hanzo is beginning to wonder whether the emperor will ever arrive by the time the man finally slips through the door. He's almost sorry he doubted the man, as soon as he sees him. Almost. The infamous omega emperor looks... exhausted. He isn't certain what he had expected, not exactly, but whatever it was, it hadn't been... what he found. 

Dark bags hung heavy beneath the omega's eyes, but a radiant smile made up for that fact, as he began to babble excitedly in English. The man was small in stature, when compared to an Alpha. But since he was an omega... Hanzo was shocked by the amount of muscle that corded around the emperor's arms, even from the wheeled chair he sat in, and seemed to require to move around. A less disciplined man might feel inclined to ask why that was, but Hanzo simply bowed deeply at the waist, pointedly not meeting the omega emperor's eyes.

Hanzo only caught bits and pieces of what the emperor was saying, and cursed himself silently for not studying harder while he had had so many tutors at his disposal in Japan. He waited stiffly for some acknowledgement, although not truly expecting any, anticipating that the emperor would probably speak to his handler instead. He was surprised, therefore, when he saw the emperor's legs in the wheeled chair slide beneath his form. He actually jumped when the emperor leaned forward and shot him a sheepish smile, twisting his neck at what looked like an incredibly comfortable angle to meet Hanzo's eyes while he was still bowing.

Hanzo stumbled back a step and landed heavily against the wall behind him with a thud, blinking down at the emperor in confusion. What kind of game was this? Was he already trying to get Hanzo in trouble? Was this some kind of convoluted excuse to 'punish' him later...? The Alpha's eyes flicked between his minder and the emperor for a few moments while the pair haltingly conversed in English, catching only a few words, and his own name.

After a few moments, the emperor turned back to Hanzo, and inclined his head gracefully. "I am honored to meet you at last, Shimada Hanzo," the omega said, in poorly accented Japanese. "And welcome to your new home. Please call me Lucio."

‘Call me Lucio?’ This must be some kind of test, Hanzo realized, swallowing thickly around the panicked lump in his throat. No concubine should ever speak to their master in such familiar terms. He might not be an omega, nor a trained concubine, but Hanzo is educated enough to understand indecorous behavior when he sees it. To call his master by his name would be… incredibly indecorous. In Japan, such an offense would be a certain death sentence.

Hanzo waited a beat, then a beat longer, eyeing the emperor warily. His handler glared at him, curling his lip in distaste as Hanzo did not immediately pay obeisance to his new master. Still, Hanzo hesitated. 

He should feel relieved that the omega could speak at least some Japanese. But then, he should have been relieved to be spared in the coup that ousted the Shimadas from Japan. He should have been relieved that he would be sold as a concubine, rather than publicly executed. Should have been relieved to see such a small omega was in charge of him. Owned him.

What Hanzo should be feeling and what he was feeling were two very different things.

When the emperor began to fidget anxiously, glancing up at Hanzo’s minder and ostensibly asking whether he’d spoken correctly, Hanzo finally bent stiffly into a deep bow, until his back was parallel to the ground. “Thank you... for... accepting me into your... harem, Emperor. I am… at your service, master,” Hanzo murmured in halting English, keeping his eyes on the carpet beneath his feet even as he straightened up. He thought that perhaps he noticed the emperor flinch out of the corner of his eye, and swallowed thickly, praying he hadn’t managed to offend the omega already. 

He tensed up as he heard more than saw the omega wheel towards him. Hanzo hardly dared to breathe as he saw the emperor at Hanzo’s feet, and lean up, struggling to meet his new concubine’s eyes before offering Hanzo a concerned smile. “How was your travel?” the omega asked in Japanese, folding his hands in his lap and flashing Hanzo a brilliant smile. “I am sorry, my Japanese is… rust.” 

Hanzo blinked as the emperor misspoke, but he guessed the omega had meant to say ‘rusty’ not ‘rust’. He dared not correct his master, so Hanzo simply offered Lucio a tight smile and a shake of his head. “I am… much tired,” He stumbled over the English words, forcing down the flush that threatened to creep up his cheeks, knowing the minister’s puppet would be mocking him as soon as he returned to Japan.

The emperor’s eyes widened, and he blurted out a string of what sounded like apologies in English before pausing and switching back to Japanese. “I apologize. I had want to meet you before our marriage,” the omega said, stumbling over his words slightly as he spoke. “The ceremony is tomorrow. I apologize for the speed of everything. We will talk more later,” the emperor added, with a tentative smile up at Hanzo.

Fake, Hanzo screamed silently. Fake, fake, fake. It had to be. All of it was fake. An act, perhaps, to convince his uncaring handler that he was going to a good master. He had to swallow thickly to keep himself from expelling the contents of his stomach all over the omega that now controlled his fate. His handler couldn’t care less what happened to Hanzo. He likely itched to get back to Japan as fast as possible and report to his snivelling master, the new minister.

The emperor seemed to be waiting on Hanzo to reply, but the Alpha had no intention of doing so. Every word he uttered might later be used against him, and more than that, he didn’t _want_ to try to communicate with this omega. This emperor had bought him and saved him from a public execution, it was true. But he had also bought him in order to use him as a political bargaining chip, and a sexual slave. He wasn’t particularly inclined to make small talk, or to try to put the omega at ease. So he remained silent, and the quiet of the room became almost deafening the longer it dragged on.

“How you... are feeling?” The omega began tentatively in Japanese, turning his wide eyes on Hanzo, looking almost genuine in his obvious concern for his new possession’s well-being. Hanzo nearly curled his lip in disgust. He simply shook his head slowly, murmuring “Tired,” again beneath his breath before glancing away from the emperor, who visibly deflated at the deflection. “Of course. I apologize. You... are tired. I will go… but please… talk to me later?” 

The Alpha merely ducked his head subserviently, waiting until the emperor turned and reluctantly left the room before settling back down into a perfect _seiza_, and closing his eyes. Hanzo’s heart raced, his mind shuffling through the information he had gained from just this short conversation with his new master. There had been the attempt to trip him up by asking Hanzo to refer to him by his given name. The inquiry about his travel. The knowledge that… oh, Gods. Their wedding. Their wedding was tomorrow.

Hanzo balled his hands into fists inside the sleeves of his _hakama_, digging his nails into the palms of his hands in a weak attempt to quell the panic crawling up his throat. He had always known he would not be able to marry for love. Love was a luxury for peasants, one tool in a vast repertoire designed to keep them docile and obedient. Princes never married for love. He had convinced himself he didn’t want or need love from his inevitable partner.

But this? This was outside of the realm of possibilities Hanzo had ever considered for a partner. He was choking on his own terror at the prospect of marrying this omega tomorrow. This omega, who was more powerful than him, who literally owned him, who could and would kill him if he failed to follow any of a narrow set of rules that Hanzo had never expected to be bound by. Hanzo had not needed to please someone like this since… since his father had been alive. That thought alone made him feel as though the floor had been swept out from beneath him, and he was free-falling, his stomach twisting violently until he felt that surely his face must be turning an unpleasant shade of green.

Hanzo jumped as he heard his handler scoff derisively on the other side of the room, and he opened his eyes to glare up at the man, only to be met with a matching glare, one that mirrored the hate he felt for this man perfectly.

“I would have thought that you would be excited to hear that the wedding would be so soon,” the Beta sneered down at Hanzo, folding his arms over his chest as he expressed his distaste for the Alpha. “You’ll get to fuck him. I hear he likes it rough. You’ve never been gentle a day in your life, have you, little lordling? But don’t get too rough, or else…” He trailed off ominously, dragging a thumb over his throat to illustrate his threat.

Hanzo didn’t react. Outwardly. To react to such base taunts was to admit weakness to someone inferior to yourself, he recalled from some of his earliest lessons with his father. One must always remain as smooth as stone in unpleasant dealings, especially if the dealings are not weighted in one’s own favor. Hanzo doubted there had ever been a situation less in his favor than his current predicament, so he smoothed out his facial features and settled back into his _seiza_, appearing to sink back into peaceful meditation.

It was a farce no better than the emperor’s. Hanzo was as calm as a tempestuous ocean during a summer storm; that is to say, he was not calm at all. But he had survived over thirty years in Japan living with features as smooth as a stone, regardless of how he truly felt. He could handle this single man’s jabs for one more day. He could handle this omega emperor’s mind games.

He could handle this, Hanzo told himself silently, again and again and again, hoping each time that with more repetition, he might actually come to believe it.

* * *

When Hanzo had been a little boy, he had given his wedding a little thought. More thought than he would ever admit to anyone, but not enough thought to fully plan out the day when he would inevitably marry some omega prince or princess to strengthen the Shimada empire. He had envisioned what flowers to decorate the Shimada castle with, what his outfit might look like, even what his future fiance’s dress might look like. The affair would be small, and his father would not be invited, because he would ruin the festivities.

The actual day of his wedding was… different. 

There were wildflowers of all varieties on plinths and podiums and pushed into Hanzo’s pliant arms at some point, he wasn’t quite sure when. His outfit was not in the traditional Japanese style, and… his omega fiance would not be the one wearing the dress. Hanzo was. He had also been coaxed to don a pair of golden shoes that pinched at his toes uncomfortably. The guest list was long, and there were more guests than Hanzo could think to count, let alone name. All of them were strangers. And his father was not in attendance, but it was because he was dead, not because he would be a bore.

He almost wanted to say that he was disappointed, but the truth was, Hanzo wasn’t sure what he _was_ feeling, let alone what he _wanted_ to be feeling. He just felt… numb. Outside of that…

The wedding had been a blur. Music and dancing and strangers and lights and colors and - He was surprised he had made it through the day without becoming physically ill. Maybe that was because he had already emptied his stomach before they tied him into the monstrosity of a wedding dress that morning. Or maybe it was the way Hanzo could feel his minder’s eyes on him all day long. 

Hanzo’s muscles were trembling by the time he and the emperor were permitted to retire to his quarters that evening, after being tense and knotted all day. All he had done was stand around all day and be cooed at in a foreign language, and yet Hanzo felt more exhausted now than he could remember being since he was a child first starting his combat training. Was this what it felt like to be an omega?

Hanzo closed his eyes, taking a deep, shuddery breath before he brushed past the emperor, walking to the foot of the massive bed and reaching behind himself to begin unlacing the corset of the dress he wore. This was his life now. This was his duty. To please this omega. His master. He could not take the time to reflect on the situation, or he would grow ill again and fail to please the emperor. That might result in his death. As little as he wanted to live here, as a concubine… Hanzo knew he deserved this suffering. This was the price he had to pay to atone for his sins.

It was a simple bow that came undone easily enough, and all he had to do was roll his shoulders in order to breathe freely for the first time since that morning. Well. At least breathe without the hindrance of the corset. Hanzo wasn’t certain he would ever breathe truly freely ever again. After all. He was property now.

The omega was trying to speak to him, but it was in English, and Hanzo’s mind was having trouble keeping track of everything in Japanese already. He simply had to disconnect himself from the proceedings, he thought idly, tugging at the laces at his back to loosen them enough to strip down as was expected of him. It was just sex, after all. He could survive one night of sex. After all the punishment he had endured at the hands of the Shimada elders… this should be nothing. No problem at all. And yet...

He largely ignored the emperor, sliding the dress off his body and onto the floor where he left it in a heap along with his golden wedding shoes before turning to stand at the foot of the bed, turning glazed, distant eyes to the omega only when he heard his name repeated several times.

The emperor had wheeled into the large room before Hanzo wearing the same smile he had worn all day, but when he turned back to face his new husband, his brows were deeply furrowed with concern. Hanzo’s heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He had already made a mistake. He tried to wrack his frazzled brain for what he might have done, but after cycling through the day’s events three times, he still had no idea. Was he not moving fast enough for the omega?

Hanzo started as he felt a hand brush against his own, and looked down, startled to find the emperor looking up at him from just in front of his feet, a worried crease between his brows. When the omega spoke, Hanzo realized he had been standing still, lost in his own thoughts for some time. He ducked his head quickly, his cheeks burning with shame at his slip-up.

He was a disgrace. Not good enough to be an Alpha heir. Not good enough to be a concubine. Not wanted in Japan and not needed here. Owned. By an omega, no less, who he had just offended by drifting off into his own headspace instead of pleasing, on his wedding night, as it was his duty to do...

“I am sorry,” Hanzo murmured in English, clearing his throat sharply when his voice cracked. “I was… distracted. I will get the… the…” He stumbled over the word in English, frowning as he struggled to recall the term, even as desperately as he didn’t want to say it. He understood his place. He had made a mistake, but he could make up for it now, and if the emperor was merciful, maybe he would even get to sleep afterwards... “The… belt? Uh… the… whip. The whip. Where do you keep…?”

“Whoa, no!” the emperor exclaimed in English, reaching up to catch Hanzo’s hand as he glanced around the room, looking for the place where the omega might store a disciplinary tool. “I don’t have any whips,” the omega frowned, clasping Hanzo’s hand in both of his own when he felt how badly it was trembling. “And the only belts I have are for keeping my pants on,” he offered a hesitant smile, leaning to one side to try to meet Hanzo’s eyes. “Hey… look at me,” he coaxed gently, rubbing his thumb in small circles along the back of Hanzo’s hand. “Hanzo…”

Hanzo bit down hard on his lower lip as the omega caught his hand, and clasped it close to his chest, despite the Alpha’s weak attempts to pull it away. He tensed as he felt the circular motions on the back of his hand, struggling to parse his master’s words before he could respond, in English. He lived here now, after all, he would have to learn English, and fast…

“_Hanzo_,” the emperor said firmly, giving his captured hand a squeeze. “Look at me,” he repeated, in Japanese this time, before finally releasing his hand. “Please?”

The Alpha turned quickly at that, his brows furrowing sharply at the polite request. Why was he requesting anything? Why did he not simply _take_ it? What was he waiting for? What was he playing at? Why try to lull Hanzo into some false sense of security when…

“_Hanzo_!” the omega all but shouted, wheeling back away from the Alpha a pace or two, and frowning up at him, not angry, but worried. “Listen to me. Listen. Okay?” He asked, in Japanese. “I… will… not… hurt… you,” the emperor said, slowly and clearly, and then as if to make certain there was no misunderstanding, he repeated the line in English.

"I will not hurt you," he repeated again in Japanese, more gently this time. "I know... Shimada had problems," the omega continued haltingly, struggling to get his message across as clearly as possible in the language Hanzo obviously understood better than English. "I do not know... what omega is like there, what.... harem is like there, but I will not hurt you." He repeated approximately the same thing in English, his face contorting from worry to discomfort back to an anxious sort of anticipation.

Hanzo felt as though he couldn't get air into his lungs. No matter how quickly he breathed, he still felt winded. The emperor wouldn't hurt him. This was a good sign. And yet... it must be some sort of trick, or game. Concubines were little more than objects. No one ever hesitated to beat or kill them when they outlived their purpose or displeased their masters. Hanzo had witnessed his father do this when he was only a child. He knew how harems worked. He knew that this omega was playing with him.

"I cannot trust you," he barked in Japanese between gasps, before clapping a hand over his mouth, horrified that he had said that out loud. "I-I am sorry," he wheezed in English, dropping to his knees on the ground so fast he would surely have bruises tomorrow, and bowing until his forehead brushed the stone tiles. "I am sorry, I did not... intend..."

"It's okay," the omega said quickly, and Hanzo tensed up as he heard the shifting of fabric, preparing himself for the blows. But they never came. Instead, the Alpha heard wood colliding with stone, and looked up sharply. The emperor had slid out of his wheeled chair and onto the floor in front of Hanzo, his legs splayed at an awkward angle but the omega was leaning forward with a determined expression.

"Hanzo," he began gently, opening his hands to show that he didn't intend to harm the Alpha. "I said I wouldn't hurt you. I meant it. I don't want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable," he frowned, holding out a hand, palm up, before quickly withdrawing it as Hanzo flinched. "Whoa, easy. I won't hurt you. It's alright. Just take some deep breaths..." the omega inhaled deeply, gesturing with his hands for Hanzo to do the same.

He _seemed_ so genuine. That was what threw Hanzo off. He knew what a poker face looked like. He knew anger and disgust and disdain and deceit and disappointment. Yet the emperor was none of those things. He wore no mask. He wasn't concealing anything. His eyes were too bright for that, his smile too sure, his worry too deep. And yet. There was always something. No one ever came to Hanzo without a motive. Hanzo never went to anyone without a motive. So what if he had been given, or sold? There was always a motive. Always something. Even here. Even now.

But Hanzo’s head was spinning from the lack of air, until he was swaying even braced on his hands and knees as he was. Maybe… just maybe... he could give the emperor the benefit of the doubt. Just for right now. Just until he could breathe again. He couldn't get in trouble for breathing. He might even get in trouble for disobeying orders if he didn't force himself to calm down, Hanzo realized suddenly. It was that, more than anything else, that convinced him to collect the scattered pieces of his composure and try to follow the omega’s gestures and _breathe_.

The omega repeated his breathing motions several times until Hanzo got the idea and took a few deep, shuddering breaths. "There we go... there. Okay. Just keep breathing, alright?" he asked, reaching behind himself and shifting his legs into a more stable position, before leaning against the side of the bed and reaching up, dragging one of the heavy comforters off of the edge and into Hanzo’s lap between them. “Hey, go on and cover up, okay?” He suggested, tugging at the corner of the blanket until it covered Hanzo’s legs completely. “I don’t want you catching a cold on your second night here…”

With his breathing finally under control, the Alpha realized he _did_ feel a little cold. Hanzo cautiously pulled one corner of the blanket around his shoulders, and settled into a more comfortable position across from the emperor. His suspicion was still… painfully present, but he tried to tamp down on it while he still had control of his emotions. The Alpha risked a glance over at the emperor, but looked quickly away again as the omega met his curious gaze.

“Hanzo… I won’t sleep with you,” the emperor said seriously, folding his hands in his lap and looking up at the Alpha like he actually _cared_. “Not tonight, and not ever, if you don’t want to. I’m… that’s really important to me, you know?” He said, frowning worriedly as Hanzo’s face remained blank. “I… will not… sleep with you,” the omega tried to say again in Japanese.

It wasn’t that Hanzo didn’t understand what he was saying. The emperor was speaking slowly enough in English, and using simple enough words, but… it didn’t compute. He wouldn’t sleep with Hanzo? But Hanzo was a concubine. _His_ concubine. It was expected of them, both of them. What would the minister’s lackey do if he found out Hanzo wasn’t performing his expected duties? “The minister… expects…” Hanzo began slowly, digging his nails into his palms beneath the thick blanket on his lap.

The omega sighed and shook his head, leaning more heavily against the side of the bed and giving Hanzo a sympathetic look. “I know. I know what he expects. You’ll stay here tonight, and I’ll tell him what a wonderful night we had when I send him back to Japan tomorrow. But I still won’t sleep with you. You’re obviously terrified. It… that would be all kinds of fucked up.”

Hanzo bared his teeth at that, growling deep in his chest at the implication. “I am not… _scared_,” he snarled, straightening up where he sat and shifting into a _seiza_, the posture he associated with defending himself after so many years of disappointing the Shimada elders.

The emperor fixed Hanzo with an unimpressed look, simply arching one eyebrow and apparently deciding not to pursue the argument further. “My point stands. I won’t sleep with you tonight. Maybe not ever. And that’s how that’s gonna stay for the rest of your time here. I understand that there will be people keeping an eye on you for the guys back in Japan. I don’t care. I’ll tell them whatever they need to hear to make sure you stay safe. Okay?”

Hanzo’s brows furrowed at that, and he tilted his head ever so slightly to one side, evaluating the omega all over again. Suspicion flowed through his body as thick as his own blood, and his stomach knotted itself up once again beneath his folded arms. His instincts screamed that this must be some kind of trick, or game. But the omega had remained consistent in both his words and actions. He didn’t have a reason to doubt him. But he still tensed up all over again every time he thought on what he had been told was now expected of him, back in Japan.

The omega continued to look unimpressed, and gestured for Hanzo to speak up with a shrug and a hand wave. “...why?” he finally asked, struggling to pack all of his concern and distrust into that one word.

The emperor frowned at that, holding a hand out, palm up, in an offer for Hanzo to take if he so chose. “Because, I know exactly how you must be feeling right now. Ah,” he added, holding up a finger as Hanzo bristled at that assertion. “I don’t know exactly how you’re feeling. Because I was never an Alpha, or a prince. Or a concubine.” 

Hanzo swallowed down his token protest, glancing down at his hands in his lap pensively, before he looked back up at the omega, curious to see what else he had to say on the matter of Hanzo’s fate.

“But I know what it’s like to be an omega, which is… kind of what you are, here. I’m the Alpha in this situation. You’re the omega. Tch, let me finish, man!” the emperor chuckled, as he watched Hanzo’s cheeks flush progressively darker with his vexation at that statement. “What I mean is… You didn’t have a choice in this. One snap of my fingers, and your whole life could change - or end. I… understand that feeling. I understand how important it is to be able to make your own choices. I… I never want to make someone do something as intimate as sleep with me when they don’t have a choice in the matter. Not ever.”

Hanzo paused, waiting to see if the emperor would continue, but after a few moments when it became clear he would not, the Alpha frowned deeply, sinking once more into his mire of suspicion. It… made logical sense. The omega had described most of Hanzo’s feelings on this matter. He was used to making his own decisions, after all. To be relegated to little more than a sex object had been… first it had been something Hanzo could not believe. Then it had infuriated. He had only accepted it as a fact when he arrived here in the omega’s country. He didn’t _want_ to be a concubine, didn’t _want_ to sleep with this omega he hardly knew. And rather than punish him or be disappointed or angry or upset… the omega was… understanding.

In Japan, were Hanzo an omega, he would be executed if it became known he had failed to consummate his marriage on the wedding night. Yet here sat the omega emperor, telling him he would _never_ sleep with Hanzo unless Hanzo wanted to. The pieces did not fit together in his mind; he could not make them. It was so far against everything he had ever known, had ever been taught or witnessed firsthand…

“You’re thinking an awful lot, huh?” The omega asked, propping his chin up on one hand, which was in turn balanced on his knee. “Hey, just… relax. Please? I got some cards, and I can call for some tea and biscuits or whatever from the kitchens… And there’s another bed in the back room. I’ll take that one, and you can have the fancy one. Let’s start over. I really didn’t get to ask you that much last night with your advisor guy hanging around. Hi, I’m Lucio,” he said with a radiant smile, holding a hand out for Hanzo to shake.

The Alpha eyed it with suspicion for a moment before tentatively reaching out and clasping Lucio’s hand, giving it a firm shake. “Hanzo,” he said, clearing his throat as his voice cracked. He blinked quickly a few times as his vision seemed to distort, frowning at the burning sensation he could feel just beneath his eyelids. He reached up and rubbed the heel of his palm against his eyes, and sucked in a sharp breath as his hand came back _wet_. He was… crying.

“Whoa, hey, c’mere,” Lucio said, his eyes widening as he took in Hanzo’s distressed expression. He used Hanzo’s hand to tug the Alpha forward with a surprising amount of strength. Hanzo let out a sound of dismay as he tumbled forward into Lucio’s lap, dragging the blanket with him, and began to push himself up before he felt Lucio’s arms wrap around his shoulders loosely. One calloused hand threaded through Hanzo’s hair and began to stroke gently, and the Alpha let out a fractured sob he hadn’t realized he had been holding back at the tender touch. 

“That’s it,” Lucio cooed, carding his fingers through Hanzo’s hair and loosening it from the braids it had been tied into for the ceremony. “Let it all out, Han. Can I call you Han? Short for Hanzo, you know…? Erm, I’ll just ask some other time,” he added quickly, realizing he would hardly get a coherent response out of the Alpha tonight. 

He was… so gentle. So caring. How? How could he be so gentle? Hanzo was his new toy, and yet here he sat, on the floor in front of their bed, on their wedding night, petting Hanzo’s hair as he cried. It was evident now to Hanzo that he might never understand this contradictory omega, and he was too tired to keep his walls up now. 

Between the arduous journey to Lucio’s country, the day of waiting with the minister’s lackey, and then the wedding ceremony itself… it was no wonder he was breaking down. He had hardly slept more than an hour in the past three days, and Lucio didn’t want to fuck him, much to his secret relief. Underneath the layers of duty and responsibility… he had been so _scared_. And now, to learn that his fears had been unfounded after all that time, after all that worry and fear and anger...

“It’s alright. Okay? Go on and cry,” Lucio coaxed, carefully brushing at Hanzo’s cheeks with a thumb to dry them as he shifted, burying his face in the blanket on the emperor’s lap. “You gotta let it out. You’ve been through a lot. Just cry as long as you want, huh? I’m not gonna judge you. Just cry it out, and we’ll get you to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”

It was the first time Hanzo had cried since he killed Genji. And that night was the first time he had slept without nightmares plaguing him until he woke. When he woke, Hanzo came to the peculiar realization that this might be the first place he could find true peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Ya'll can blame/thank Mythos for this ending up on the internet. We've been writing a series of vignettes in the token Harem AU for Overwatch in our Doomcio server (I'm sure some Doomcio pieces will end up in this series eventually) but for now I only have some vignettes for scene-setting for Hanzo and McCree even written! HMU with any questions, comments, concerns, rants, hate, love, keysmashing, etc.


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